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SAMUEL H.TMOnPSON 




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SOUTHERN 
HERO TALES 






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BY 

SAMUEL H. THOMPSON 



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GLOBE BOOK COMPANY 

MORRISTOWN, TeNN. 



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Copyright, 1914, by 
McQuiDDY Printing Company 

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DEDICATION 



To the hero-loving spirit of the high- 
hearted boys and pure- 
hearted girls 
of the 
GREAT NEW SOUTH 
this little volume of stories about men who 
helped in the making of our nation 
is lovingly dedicated by 
THE AUTHOR. 



CONTENTS 



Daniel Boone, Statesman and Poet .... 7 

Always a Winner 19 

^'The Iron Man" 37 

The Hunter Hero 51 

A Born Leader 65 

AYalking to Congress 79 



DANIEL BOONE, STATESMAN AND POET 

A long time ago there lived among the beautiful hills 
and mountains of our Southern country a man whose 
fame as a hunter and trapper is told over and over again 




Daxiel Booxe 



to our hoys and girls. In speaking of his great prowess 
as a hunter, which was made necessary by the wild and 
lonely life he lived, we often forget that Daniel Boone 



8 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

was more than all these, and lose sight of the fact that 
he was a statesman and a poet as well as a great pioneer 
backwoodsman. From comparatively old parts of the 
country, as he counted age, Boone led victorious parties 
in search of new homes into a land that indeed flowed 
with milk and honey. No man could do so many suc- 
cessful things for the people he loved and served who 
did not have back of him good parents and in his heart 
and mind an ambition for the higher things of life that 
filled his soul full of an endless longing to be of great 
service to the teeming world of humanity. 

Boone's father and mother were both Quakers, the 
father having come direct from England to join Penn's 
colony and become free from the persecution given fol- 
lowers of that sect in England. His father is described 
as "a man of rather small stature, fair complexion, red 
hair, and gray eyes;" while his mother was ^'a woman 
something over the common size, strong and active, 
with black hair and eyes." 

Daniel was the sixth child bom to Squire and Sarah 
(Morgan) Boone, resulting from the marriage in the 
Quaker meetinghouse by the Quaker ceremony on July 
23, 1720 — lacking but a day of being exactly one month 
after John Wesley entered Oxford College. It seemed in- 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 9 

evitable that this boy should be a great hunter. His 
first playthings were guns, powder horns, and hunting 
knives. Early in life he became skilled in throwing the 
knob-rooted sapling and capturing smaller game with his 
liands. At the age of twelve his father gave him a light 
rifle, which was a delight and a pleasure. He now be- 
came a man in his own thought. He soon became known 
for his markmanship and for his prowess in search of 
big game. In his seventeenth year his family departed 
for North Carolina, Squire Boone and son, Israel, hav- 
ing been ''disowned" by the Quakers — just why, no one 
seems tO' know — although no one regards this as the rea- 
son for the departure. The family settled in the valley 
of the Yadkin River, in Davie County, and soon became 
leaders in their community, whose citizens were miles 
apart. When the French and Indian war broke out, 
Boone joined the side of the English, but was forced to 
go as a wagoner and mechanic when he wanted to go 
as a rifleman. His grandfather was a blacksmith, and 
it is supposed that Boone had learned the trade; but in 
time of war to be a wagoner was as Pegasus to the plow 
to him. 

In this war Boone met a man named John Findley, 
who related to him a glowing account of a remote coun- 



10 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 



try south of the Ohio Eiver, where the hunting was the 
best in the world. This, of course, interested the young- 
mountaineer more than anytliing else, and he was soon 
making trips of his own accord into this new land. The 
Indians called this wonderful country ''Kentucky," and 
preserved it as a hunting ground nominally open to all, 
but about which there was to be much dark and bloodv 




Relics of Daniel Booxe 

fighting among whites and Indians almost alike for the 
possession of a choice bit of land. 

But with all his warrior spirit, Daniel Boone was not 
without his romantic characteristics. Near his home in 
the Yadkin valley lived a high-spirited Scotch-Irish 
family named Bryan. Black-eyed, rosy-cheeked Rebecca 
Bryan made a con(iuest of the strong-limbed boy from 
the start. She was but fifteen when they plighted their 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 11 

troth, and but seventeen when they were married by 
Squire Boone, who was a justice of the peace. 

In the dark days on the border Boone found himself 
of great service to the settlers, especially to those who 
found it necessary to organize themselves into small par- 
ties and go against Indian marauders, or even carry the 
ex})edition far into tlie Indian's country, as was often 
necessary. He was skilled in all the ways of fighting 
the dangerous red man, and also of caring for himself 
and those de]:>endent u])on his leadership. As travel be- 
came less dangerous or as the fertile lands far away 
])ecame more attractive, Boone was relied upon to lead 
not only parties of hunters and trappers into new and 
dangerous, though attractive, regions, but he guided car- 
avans consisting of several families who expected to 
make for themselves and theirs permanent homes in the 
new land. The old Boone trail led out of North Carolina 
across Eastern Tennessee and into Kentucky. Boone 
was doubtless the first white man to make a permanent 
trail through Tennessee, which he did as early as 1759 
or 1760. The writer lias seen the following inscription 
u])on a beech tree standing in sight of the old stage road 
leading from Jonesboro to Blountville in Tennessee: 



12 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 



. 








_ 


- 




D. Boon 




- 


- 


Gill E T) 


A. BAR 


On 


- 


- 


in 


ThE 


Tree 


- 


- 


yEAR 






- 



1760 



The spelling, punctuation, and arrangement are just 
as Boone placed them. Time's corroding touch has so 
obliterated the letters that I doubt if they may be seen 
at this time. But the tree is there yet and may be lo- 
cated beyond the shadow of a doubt. It stands on the 
bank of Boone's Creek near where it flows into Watauga 
River, and only a stone's throw, so to speak, from where 
William Bean built his cabin in 1769, which was the first 
permanent home erected by English-speaking people in 
Tennessee. His son, Russell Bean, was the first white 
child born on Tennessee soil. This tree stands eight 
miles north of Jonesboro, the oldest town in the State, 
and where Andrew Jackson practiced law when he first 
came to Tennessee. 

But T have said that Daniel Boone was a statesmau. 
Inhere are various definitions for statesman, one of which 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 



13 



is, "a dead politician." My definition for a statesman 
is one who does constructive work with a vision and an 
insight justified by time. Such was Daniel Boone, and 




Daniel BooxXe's Tree 

as such must he live in history. Some have thought him 
a hermit-like mountaineer because tradition says when 
he found a neighbor as close as fifteen miles he imme- 
diately penetrated farther into the forest. Both are 



14 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

doubtless true in that he led others with him that they. . 
too, might share in the abundant game, new fertile soil, 
and pure streams of crystal water. He was a pathfinder 
in the sense that he blazed the way where none dared 
precede him and only few were brave enough to follow. 
When he left his home in the rich and peaceful valley 
of the Yadkin with his lovely black-eyed Rebecca, charm- 
ing as a Jewess, and their infant son, James, it was only 
that he might show other families that they could brave 
the dangers of the unknown forest and survive. When 
he went into what is now Tennessee less than a dozen 
years after the first white man set foot on her soil and 
nine years before the first home was established, it Avas 
only that new territory might be opened for those seek- 
ing homes where fresh soil and uncut timber were to 
be found in abundance. Through it all he looked with 
the eye of a statesman, and every vision thrilled him with 
the inspiration of a poet whose untaught and unlettered 
]nind could not set its poetic fancy to words. He did 
know more al)()ut Ti'ansylvania than any man, and it was 
because he saw it all, and not merely the animal trails, 
the virgin timber, the fine si)rings, and the unending soil, 
bvit he saw them all in one out of eyes that looked from 
a statesman's mind. Very few people know that as early 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 15 

as 1765 Boone penetrated as far south as Florida by way 
of Tennessee, Western Virginia, and Kentucky. But he 
did. lie ahnost made up liis mind to settle at Pensa- 
cola, but that beautiful, rosy-cheeked, thrifty Scotch wife 
dissuaded him, and he was saved to become the great 
pilot of the no less and no greater wilderness. He often 
left his wife and children for months that he might find 
new territory, but it was not that he loved them less. 
Rather he felt that he nmst do the work his soul bade 
him do. While he had a fondness for the un trammeled 
life of the forest, he was also devoted to his family and 
felt that he could do nmch better for them by making 
explorations into a new country and inducing settlers to 
remove hither. The trend was westward, following the 
Indian wars, and in this great movement he had no de- 
sire to be a laggard. For all that Boone had he suffered 
much. While in captivity by the Indians he was in im- 
minent danger of death many times. His firstborn, 
James, was slain at the early age of seventeen in an In- 
dian massacre. When he led the pai*ty of men who built 
the ''Wilderness Eoad," it was at the risk of his life 
daily, but he saw a great territory opening to humani- 
ty and for the benefit of mankind. It was his nerve that 
kept the road going. After two deaths from an Indian 



16 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

attack, many begged Boone to return before others met 
a similar fate. But he would not. Quoting from '' Dan- 
iel Boone and the Wilderness Road," by H. A. Bruce, 
from which much information herein is gleaned, we have 
the following from Felix AValker's (one of the company) 
comment on Boone's management of the expedition: 

^^In the sequel and conclusion of my narrative I must 
not neglect to give honor to whom honor is due. Colonel 
Boone conducted the company under his care through 
the wilderness with great propriety, intrepidity, and 
courage; and were I to enter an exception to any part of 
his conduct, it would be on the ground that he appeared 
void of fear and of consequences — too little caution for 
the enterprise. But let me with feeling, recollection, and 
lasting gratitude ever remember the unremitting kind- 
ness, sympathy, and attention paid to me by Colonel 
Boone in my distress. He was my father, my physician, 
and friend; he attended me as his child, cured my wounds 
by the use of medicines from the woods, nursed me with 
paternal affection until I recovered, without the expecta- 
tion of reward. ' ' 

I have also said that Boone was a poet. That you may 
be satisfied, let me give here his words on some occasions 
as handed down to us by those who wei^e with liim and 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 17 

who have come after them. When he visited the Ten- 
nessee country in 1764, he is reported to have cried, while 
gazing from a Cumberland Mountain peak at a herd of 
buffalo grazing below: ''I am richer than the man men- 
tioned in scripture who owned the cattle on a thousand 
hills; I own the wild beasts of more than a thousand val- 
leys." Then as they went into the Kentucky regions 
he spoke in a rhapsody of enthusiasm : ' ^ One day I under- 
took a tour through the country, and the diversity and 
beauties of nature I met with . . . expelled every 
gloomy and vexatious thought. Just at the close of day 
the gentle gales retired and left the place to the disposal 
of a profound calm. Not a breeze shook the most trem- 
ulous leaf. I had gained the summit of a commanding 
ridge and, looking round with astonishing delight, be- 
held the ample plains, the beauteous tracts below. On 
the other hand I surveyed the famous river Ohio that 
rolled in silent dignity, marking the western boundary 
of Kentucky with inconceivable grandeur. At a vast 
distance I beheld the mountains lift their venerable 
brows and penetrate the clouds.'* 

That he was lonely and often sighed for the pleasures 
of his own fireside is revealed in the following words 
spoken to one Filson: ^'I confess I never before was 



18 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

under greater necessity of exercising philosophy and for- 
titude. A few days I passed uncomfortably. The idea 
of a beloved wife and family, and their anxiety upon 
the account of my absence and exposed situation, made 
sensible impressions on my heart. A thousand dreadful 
apprehensions presented themselves to my view, and had 
undoubtedly disposed me to melancholy if further in- 
dulged." 

Boone had an indomitable will and was a strong lover 
of nature. It was now Maytime in the beautiful Ken- 
tucky woods and he became reconciled. 

If further proof were needed of his being a statesman 
and a poet, let me say that no man could lead the men 
he led in such an inspirational aud enthusiastic way with- 
out having the qualities of both. When his life went 
out in the eighty-sixth year of his age in the second 
decade of the nineteenth century, his spirit did not de- 
part, but remained as a beacon light to others who de- 
sired to build roads through the wilderness of the far 
AA^est and elsewhere. Whole pages could be written 
about Boone as a lawmaker. But they must be left for 
another time. 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 19 



ALWAYS A WINNER 

You and I know a great many people who are very 
attractive to us and wliom we like very much. Some of 
them are handsome and rich and what the world calls 
successful; others are lacking in the finer qualities that 




John Sevier 
The First Governor of Tennessee 

make for fame and fortune and success, yet we like them 
very much, too. 

I am going to tell you a little about a great man who 
always won. But it was not always easy for him. Now 
and then he was near losing, and at times, no doubt, 



20 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

was in the act of giving up. The fact that he never did 
give up caused him to win. 

This hero of mine was bom in old Virginia not many 
years after the birth of ''The Father of His Countiy." 
As a boy he loved the folklore stories of his surround- 
ings in much the same way that you and I love fairy 
stories, the myths of Greece and Eome, the Siegfried 
stories of the Irish sagas; only he did not read them in 
books as we do, but had them told to him by his par- 
ents and old people who lived near him. They were 
hero stories of what men had done with animals and fish 
and in fighting the dangerous red men of that time. 
Moreover, many of them were thrilling stories of real 
Indians, or red men, and they fired the blood of this hand- 
some boy until he wanted to go out and do some great 
thing; only as he grew older he became ambitious to fight 
that he might do good instead of just for fame and for- 
tune and the high honor that success would bring. 

Our boy went into a new country which is now Ten- 
nessee. He met many people who had come into these 
old mountains — old to the world of mountains, but new 
to the world of men and women. The new people with 
whom be became acquainted had come from other sec- 
tions of the country to find more room and larger fields 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 21 

for their flocks and herds and also to establish homes 
for their children. Some of them had come because they 
had been driven out of their former homes by the sol- 
diers of the King of England, who was at that time in 
possession of all this country by right of discovery and 
force, but not altogether by right of law. They came 
seeking liberty and freedom and opportunity. The great 
mountains seemed to breathe into them the spirit of lib- 
erty and freedom and independence. The running 
streams sang a song of freedom; the hills took up the 
echo until every inhabitant made it the great battle cry. 
The scenery is not unlike that in Scotland which gave 
such inspiration to Wallace and Bruce and of which Sir 
Walter Scott wrote with such charming interest in The 
Lady of the Lake, The Bride of Lammermoor, and kin- 
dred stories. No man could live among such surround- 
ings and not have the spirit of freedom. 

One day they brought the news that the Indians were 
planning an attack on a fort occupied by the white peo- 
ple, who had gathered therein for protection. There was 
much alarm, and all turned to the handsome young Vir- 
ginian for leadership. Some women were outside the 
barracks milking when the shrewd and fearless Indians 
sought to take the fort. Among these women was a 



22 SOUTHERN HERO TALES . 

young and beautiful girl afterwards known to lovers of 
historical romance as ''Bonny Kate" Slierrill. And she 
was every whit as attractive as the fair Eleanor in The 
Lady of the Lake. The Indian braves seemed to have 
her in their cruel grasp. But when all appeared to be 
lost, our young friend leaped to the top of the barricade 
and rescued her from almost instant death. He was the 
James Fitz- James of the fine pastoral by Scotland's great 
bard. This one act of our hero placed him high in the 
estimation of those who love the brave and the good and 
the noble. You are not surprised that soon "Bonny Kate" 
became his fair and blushing bride, and that thereafter 
she shared his life of adventure and hardship, to which 
were added many of his country's highest honors, not the 
least of which was being six times governor of a great 
State, being the first man thus honored by the people of 
that commonwealth. 

Doubtless John Sevier (for it is he of whom I write) 
did not count being governor of Tennessee the highest 
honor, although any man might count that honor enough. 
But our hero was a man who counted honor that which 
gave him opportunity for the greatest service. 

A long time after the saving of "Bonny Kate," as boys 
and girls count time, there came an opportunity for great 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 23 

service of which our handsome gentleman took advan- 
tage. He was ambitious and energetic, but only that 
he might bring happiness to others and himself as well. 

The folks in this wild mountain country were threat- 
ened on every side by the king's soldiers, who stood 
afar and sent word that they would cross the mountains 
to molest the peace and quiet of the comfortable cabin 
homes nestling snugly in the valleys and on the hilltops 
of this now famous land which so many call home. 
, Word was brought by a paroled prisoner named Sam- 
uel Philips that unless these mountain people laid down 
their arms the British officer, Patrick Ferguson, would 
march into their country, lay waste their crops, bum 
their houses, and hang their leaders. Now what would 
you expect a brave and fearless leader to do when such 
a message was sent his people? Like the Greeks and 
Romans of ancient times, he answered by going in per- 
son at the head of a small number of men who were not 
only used to living in the open and enduring the hard- 
ships of a rugged mountain life, but who knew how to 
shoot as well, for they captured meat for themselves and 
families in that way. They could kill a squirrel out of 
the top of the highest tree you ever saw, or shoot a deer 
running as rapidly as the fastest horse. What could 



24 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

such fine marksmen do in time of battle! Moreover, 
they were helped in their high endeavor by the thought 
that if they won it meant freedom forever for them and 
their children, but if they lost it meant long, long years 
of struggle, with the results uncertain. 

So when this word reached John Sevier and other 
brave ^ ' o ver-the-mountain ' ' men, he began to collect these 
old squirrel and bear and deer hunters for a long march 
over the mountains to' make a last defense of their homes 
and hills and valleys and beautiful mountain streams. 
One fine September morning more than a century and a 
quarter ago they were ready to begin their perilous 
journey. "While the grass was yet fresh and glossy with 
the dew of the early morning they were called to prayer 
by Dr. Samuel Doak at Sycamore Shoals, almost in sight 
of where Gov. Robert L. Taylor was born, in Carter Coun- 
ty, Tennessee. A native stone monument now marks 
this sacred spot of prayer. With the benediction of one 
of Grod's best educators and preachers resting upon their 
uncovered heads, these men of hope and courage began 
their onward march to meet their avowed enemy rather 
than let the enemy come for them. In this they were 
wise, for there could be no better battle ground for the 
attacking party than the side of a mountain when moun- 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 25 

taineers are the oppressors. After many days of march- 
ing over high mountains and through deep valleys, our 
friends came to the camp of the enemy, pitched high up 
on King's Mountain. Colonel Ferguson would not let his 
men surrender, but declared that even ^Hhe Almighty 
himself could not drive him from his position." Our 
brave fellows had their faith pinned sincerely to the God 
this profane British colonel thus defied, and went forth 
to battle expecting victory. To their faith they added 
dry powder, good rifles, and a sure aim. Ferguson was 
killed; his men, most of them brave, were glad to sur- 
render; and John Sevier and his companions in leader- 
ship and bravery won such a victory as caused Thomas 
Jefferson to call it the turning point in the Eevolution- 
ary War, and he thus paved the way for the everlast- 
ing freedom you and I enjoy. The battle lasted about 
an hour. 

When the men were assembling to march from 
our own mountains, "Bonny Kate,'' long since the moth- 
er of several children, came with her son, James, not yet 
sixteen years of age, to present him to her brave hus- 
band, General Sevier, with these words: "Here is another 
of our boys that wants to go with his father and 
brother to the war, but we have no horse for 



26 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

liim, and, poor fellow, it is a great distance to walk." 
But the gallant lad, with an older hrother, did go, 
and they fought side by side, with their father and 
the other brave men of the mountains in the most 
remarkable battle of our great war for independence — 
a victory that hastened the close of this fearful struggle 
and moved up by several years tlie time when the col- 
onies, represented by such men as Washington, Franklin, 
Sevier, and others, could declare themselves in fact and 
in truth free and independent States. 

When our general returned from this brilliant victory, 
he was much more of a hero than ever. He had won 
great glory in the Indian wars, and is said never to have 
lost a battle; but now he had taken a handful of moun- 
tain men, untrained in the practice and experiences of 
war, and won a complete and glorious victory over the 
trained and tried soldiers of the King of England. How- 
ever, these Englishmen did not know how to slioot 
straight, and that is the one thing needful in battle and 
in hunting. Moreover, the mountaineers were enthusi- 
astic and believed in the cause of liberty for wliich they 
were fighting. There were other great leaders in these 
fights, but we are now talking about John Sevier, the 
gallant young Virginian. 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 27 

Some years after this famous victoi^y, but before the 
colonies had become united, the folks wlio lived in the 
beautiful mountain fastness known as East Tennes- 
see became fearful of their future. They thought 
the Continental govemiment as it then existed was 
not giving them the support and protection they 
deserved; hence they looked about to find some 
means of providing these things for themselves. They 
thought a permanent organization would solve all their 
problems. Likewise they felt that their mountains and 
valleys and running streams placed them in a class to 
themselves peculiar only to their own needs and desires. 
It was the world-old cry of liberty found ever and al- 
ways in the minds and hearts of people who live among 
the mountains and who breathe the free, pure air and 
sniff the life-giving mist of the sparkling brooklet as it 
goes coursing its adventurous way to the far-off seas. 
Read the story of William Tell, The Lady of the Lake, 
or Scottish Chiefs, and you will see how the people of 
the mountains love freedom even better than life itself. 

So when representatives met to form a new State and 
find a governor therefor, with one accord their minds 
turned to the man whose every act had made him a hero 
in the thoughts of the people, and whose ideals of law 



28 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

and order and government had caused men high up in 
the affairs of life to recognize in him great qualities of 
statesmanship. Moreover, every one had the utmost 
faith in him as a man, not only of courage and stead- 
fastness of purpose, but also of fidelity and truthfulness. 
They were about to call their new State ' ' Frankland, ' ^ 
which really means ''the land of the free," or ''free 
land.'' Thus you see every act of these rugged people 
was turned toward freedom in its highest and noblest 
form. When General Sevier was asked to become, gov- 
ernor of this new State, he did so with great hesitation, 
for he felt that sooner or later the right sort of united 
government for all the colonies would be agreed upon 
and that in due time these liberty-loving mountaineers 
would be properly protected and wisely cared for. But 
he could not resist the call of the men who had followed 
him over hundreds of miles of rough, ungraded moun- 
tain roads to suppress the Indians, defeat the redcoats 
at King's Mountain, and make possible the existence of 
a new world the like of which history does not record. 
And he could not say them nay. It was like a call from his 
own kith and kin, and he must not fail them. For al- 
most three years he guided with a wise head and steady 
hand the new State of Frankland, sometimes called 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 29 

*' Franklin;'' and when it seemed best to dissolve this 
State, for reasons not necessary to give here, and again 
become one with the colonies, he did so in the best pos- 
sible way, and was, as always, true and loyal to every 
interest of the colonies and of the men who were leaders 
therein. 

Too much cannot be said in praise of the people who 
formed the State of Frankland. The descendants of 
many of them live among the Southern mountains to- 
day, bearing the same names as did their ancestors, fos- 
tering a spirit of freedom and liberty and independence 
second to no people in the world. Some of them have 
gone out into other parts of the world and made great 
names for themselves in the field of law, statesmanship, 
theology, medicine, mechanical and industrial arts, and 
education, and in all vocations known to mankind. 

I think if General Sevier could talk to us now, he would 
be prouder of his part in the battle of King's Mountain 
and the governorship of the State of Frankland than any 
two things he did during his long and useful life filled 
with remarkable deeds of heroism. 

There is another incident in the life of John Sevier 
which I think will interest you as boys and girls and 
also as men and women. Like all great and good men. 



30 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

lie had some enemies who sought to do him harm in sev- 
eral ways. They caused him to be arrested and carried 
across the mountains to be confined and taken away from 
his beautiful home and the freedom he loved so well. 
Nothing could be more humiliating to a man of Sevier's 
temperament, impetuous disposition and independent 
spirit and bearing, who was calm in danger and brave 
when needed, than to be placed in charge of men whose 
duty it was to see that his privileges were restricted. 
But the men of the mountains with whom he had shared 
every danger were not content to let him thus suffer 
humiliation, and immediately set about ways and means 
of rescue. General Sevier had been carried to Morgan- 
ton, in North Carolina, for trial. The story is best told 
by William Smith, one of the rescuers, and is taken from 
Ramsey's Annals of Tennessee: 

''In a luckless hour the puissant governor of the west- 
ern wilds, whose prowess was known and acknowledged 
from Watauga to the Chattanooga Mountain, was 
seized by an armed posse and conveyed into the settle^ 
ments on a charge of high treason against the State of 
North Carolina. Had the destroying angel passed 
through the land and destroyed the firstborn in every 
section, the feelings of the hardy frontiersmen would not 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 31 

have been more incensed; had the chiefs and warriors 
of the whole Cherokee nation fallen npon and butchered 
the defenseless settlers, the feeling of retaliation and re- 
venge would not have been more deeply awakened in 
their bosoms. They had suffered with him; they had 
fought under him; with them he had shared the dangers 
and privations of a frontier life and a savage warfare, 
'and they were not the spirits to remain inactive when 
their friend was in danger. The chivalry of the coun- 
try gathered together, a number of men were selected 
to fly to the rescue; armed to the teeth, those dauntless 
sons of the woods crossed the mountains, determined to 
rescue their beloved commander or leave their bones to 
bleach upon the sandhills of North Carolina, a proud mon- 
ument to the children of the West. It was ascertained 
that the trial was to take place in Morganton, and thither 
this daring band bent their eager steps. Their plan was 
to obtain his release by stratagem; and if that failed, the 
next step was to fire the town and in the hurry and 
confusion burst the prison doors by force and make their 
escape. Probably at no time before had the quiet town 
of Morganton assumed such an air of excitement and 
interest as the present; for the fame of the unfortunate 



32 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

prisoner had gone before him, and the novelty of the 
scene had drawn together a large crowd. 

^^The Franks had approached as. near to the town as 
they deemed it prudent, where four of them concealed 
themselves near the road, while two of their number, 
James Cozby and Nathaniel Evans, went forward into 
the town. They rode to a convenient distance from the 
courthouse, tied their horses to a limb of a tree, near to 
which they hid their rifles, and boldly entered the town, 
their capacious hunting shirts concealing the side arms 
they had prepared in case of need. Soon they had min- 
gled with the crowd and easily passed off for countrymen 
attracted there by common curiosity. Evans had taken 
charge of General Sevier's celebrated race mare and led 
her up in front of the courthouse door, the bridle care- 
lessly thrown over her head; he was apparently an un- 
concerned spectator of passing events. Cozby entered the 
house, and there, arraigned at the bar, sat the object 
of their solicitude; there he sat, as firm and undaunted 
as when charging the hosts of Wyuca on the Lookout 
Mountain. 

^^ Slowly he turned his head and their eyes met. Sevier 
knew the rescue was at hand, but he was restrained 
from any outward demonstration by a significant shake 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 33 

of Cozby's head; but it eould not prevent the tear of 
gratitude, for he knew there were daring spirits near 
that would peril their lifeblood in his defense. During a 
pause in the trial Cozby stepped forward in front of 
the judge and in that quick and energetic tone so pe- 
culiar to him asked the judge if he was done with that 
man. The question, manner, and tone caused every per- 
son to start, to cast their eyes on the speaker, then on 
the judge, all in amazement. In the meantime Sevier 
had caught a glimpse of his favorite mare standing at 
the door; taking advantage of the confusion, he made one 
spring to the door, the next he was safely in the saddle, 
and with the speed of thought was borne from the won- 
dering crowd. 'Yes,' cried a waggish voice, 'I'll be 
damned if you ain't done with him.' His comrades were 
not slow to follow in his wake, and, although immediate 
pursuit was made, a few minutes brought him to the 
main body, who, with one wild shout of victory, closed 
in the rear and bore him on in triumph. That night 
they rested at the house of a friend about twenty miles 
distant, from whence they made an easy journey to their 
homes, content that they had gained a bloodless victory. ' ' 
Every one likes to read the story of Sevier's escape 
on his favorite racing mare known tliroughout the coun- 



34 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

try for her speed and endurance. Imagine her going at 
a break-neck rate over hills and mountains and through 
valleys and caves, jDaying no attention to streams or 
ditches until she should deliver her beloved master out 
of danger's reach, safe in the clitfs of the mountains he 
called home and which claimed him for their very own. 

You are not surprised that when the whole of Ten- 
nessee, from the Father of Waters to the snow-capped 
mountains, became one State by the signature of Presi- 
dent Washington on June 1, 1796, the men who had fol- 
lowed our hero from one victory to another, and under 
his great leadership had never lost a battle, arose as one 
man and made him their first governor. 

He lived threescore years and ten, the scriptural time 
allotted to man. For three quarters of a century his 
ashes rested in the State of Alabama, where he died while 
on business for the Federal government. During an ad- 
ministration of Grovernor Taylor all that was left mortal 
of this great and good man was deposited in the court- 
house yard in Knoxville and a monument erected, the 
inscription upon which tells briefly the story of this hero 
who always won. 

While East Tennessee is justly proud of this distin- 
guished hero of many battles, the other divisions of the 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 35 

State likewise take great pride in him and are always 
glad to claim as tlieir own a man who has added so much 
glory and valor to the fair name of Tennessee. 

The last paragraph of Phelan's History of Tennessee 
no doubt expresses better than anything else the real 
feeling of those who live in a State which has such a glo- 
rious and noble history (page 233) : 

^'It is no wonder that Tennesseans wherever they go 
are noted for their pride in their State, and that the in- 
habitants of other States sometimes say that ^a Tennes- 
sean pities people who do not live in Tennessee. ' When- 
ever a Tennessean speaks of his State, it is after the fash- 
ion of an eloquent son of Tennessee, Williams H. Ste- 
phens, who once said: 'I speak for that heroic State who 
was baptized in her infancy with the sprinkling of Rev- 
olutionary blood on King's Mountain; who, five years 
afterwards struck again for independence under the ban- 
ner of the daring young State of Franklin; who grap- 
pled, single-handed and alone, for fifty years with the 
dusky warriors of the forest in all their battles from the 
Kentucky line to the Southern gulf; who beat back the 
British legions at New Orleans; who smote the false 
Spaniard at Pensacola; who rushed with Taylor into the 
breach at Monterey, and shared in the triumphal march 
from Vera Cruz to Mexico. ' ' ' 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 37 



^*THE IRON MAN" 

One fine morning down in the Carolinas, wliere the 
magnolias bloom and where the air is all laden with the 
fragrance of wild jasmine, thyme, and tulips, and where 
the soft breezes from the rose-scented gardens of rich 
and rare old homes of splendor waft their zephyr waves 
far over the broad fields and deep into the lowland 
swamps, a little boy suddenly found himself getting up 
from a very hard fall in which he was apparently much 
the worse for being in the middle of a bad fix. He was a 
slender lad, with clear, gray eyes, and shocky hair that 
grew straight up, it seemed; his face was rough, but 
rugged and honest. He looked both like an Irishman 
and a Scotchman, and indeed he was both. 

But you are wondering why our boy had such a sudden 
fall and how he came out of it, for his face showed rage 
and fiery sparks almost darted from his piercing eyes 
as he brushed the dust from his face, while a little stream 
of rich red blook trickled hurriedly down his cheek 
from a tiny wound over his right eye. And now I must 
tell you about it. 

In those days the people of this country were in a life- 



Andrew Jackson 



. SOUTHERN HERO TALES 39 

and-death struggle for freedom and independence of the 
mother country, England. In the South the king's 
troops had wellnigh taken possession of everything and 
everybody, for a great many of the people were Tories, 
or British sympathizers, anyway. His Majesty's soldiers 
had no regard for any people who did not belong to their 
side of the contention unless they were rich and pow- 
erful enough to command respect and consideration. 
The soldiers in their travels would often pick up boys 
and carry them along to do their odd jobs, such as cur- 
rying the horses, fetching water, building fires, clean- 
ing boots, polishing saddles, and such other chores as the 
soldiers did not wish to do themselves. In fact, they 
liked to be regarded as gentlemen of leisure living in 
the enemy's country, feasting on the fat of the land, with 
servants to do for them even the smallest thing. So 
they had picked up this shocky-headed boy and thought 
to make of him a runner of errands and a sort of lackey 
for all. His clothing showed him to be very poor, and 
everything about him indicated the direst sort of pover- 
ty and need and dependence. The captain to whose com- 
pany this boy had been attached the day before arose 
this fine morning of which I speak and found himself in 
need of a servant. Our boy was called and ordered to 



40 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

clean his captain's boots and polish his saddle. But the 
young fellow, only twelve years of age though he was, 
said: ^^A Continental will not black the boots of a red- 
coat!" And there was fire in his eyes when he said it. 
The British captain, enraged at this lack of obedience 
and spirit of rebellion in one so young and evidently so 
poor, threw his boot at the youngster, with the results 
described in the opening words of this story. From the 
very beginning of our war for independence, the Brit- 
ishers, from privates in the ranks to generals in com- 
mand of armies, were surjDrised at the independent spir- 
it shown by all classes of true Americans. No British 
captain could understand how a boy like our hero could 
show such bravery. But of course the captain called 
it impudence and insolence. It was the last time he shied 
a boot at this boy. Eealizing that brute strength and 
numbers were against him, he felt that his only chance lay 
in running away, which he promptly did, suffering many 
hardships in the form of hunger, night sleeping places, 
and constant fear as he sought in every way he knew 
or could imagine to avoid detection and possible recap- 
ture at the hands of his hated and dreaded foe. But this 
tyrannical and overbearing captain never saw the 
youngster again. The boy set his face like hard steel 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 41 

against his enemy and the enemies of his country. He 
resolved that if ever the chance came he would do his 
country a service in the largest way possible. So this 
is your introduction to Andrew Jackson, who came to 
be one of our greatest men, as you will see. 

You do not need to know all the struggles this boy 
had and what hardships were his. He became what was 
known in those days as a ''bound boy;" that is, 
he bound himself to a man who asi-reed to keep 
him in food and clothing and the other necessities of 
life for what work the boy would be able to do on the 
farm and about the house. He managed to gather a very 
meager education, such as reading and writing, and a 
little spelling and arithmetic. He wrote poorly, spelled 
poorly, and knew but little mathematics. However, he 
did learn to read very well indeed, because he enjoyed 
that. Haven't you noticed how much easier it is for 
you to do or learn to do that which you enjoy, and that no 
task or work is ever difficult so long as you do enjoy 
it? So this boy became a very great reader. He read 
everything he could buy, which was not a great deal, 
but he was able to borrow many books which he devoured 
in the most rapid manner. One thing about this boy An- 
drew, he seemed to remember the most important things 



42 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

he read. As he grew into young manhood he developed 
an ambition to be a lawyer. By the way, this was the 
ambition of many young men in those days. They had 
such fine examples to inspire them. There was Alex- 
ander Hamilton, our first Secretary of the United States 
Treasury; Thomas Jefferson, who wrote the Declaration 
of Independence; and John Marshall, the first Chief Jus- 
tice of the Supreme Court of the United States. 
All of these were very inspiring to a young Scotch- 
Irishman such as we are describing. In those 
days law was not studied as it is now — in a 
college of law; but various books on law were 
read either at home or in the office of some other law- 
yer who was willing to take in a young fellow and give 
him the privilege of his law library, together with what- 
ever experience he might get. But our youngster did 
quite a deal of other reading. Like many another man 
of promise and great ability, he had heard of a land 
across the mountains which was full of interest and which 
afforded great opportunity for those beginning their 
careers in the law or other professions. So he journeyed 
across the rough and rugged Carolina mountains until 
he came to Jonesboro, the oldest town in Tennessee. He 
was now very handsome, more than six feet in height, 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 43 

sat on his horse as if he had grown to the saddle, was 
very fond of a good traveler, and rode only the best. He 
presented a very distinguished appearance on horseback, 
quite as much so as did General Washington, of whom 
you have read a great deal. He practiced law in the 
courts of North Carolina, of which our own Tennessee was 
at that time a part. He was fond of outdoor sports — 
particularly horse racing, a thing very common in those 
days. I said he read a great many books outside of law. 
He was particularly fond of the works of Lord Francis 
Bacon, a great English writer who lived in the time of 
William Shakespeare, more than three hundred years 
ago. Lord Bacon was so great a scholar that he tried 
to master all learning that he might have a knowledge 
of all things. Bacon wrote a series of articles called 
'^Essays," from which our friend frequently quoted in the 
midst of a speech before the court. He carried his books in 
saddlebags swinging across his horse, as nearly all the 
lawyers did in those days. It is said that on a certain 
occasion when it was known our friend would speak be- 
fore the court the day following, a fun-loving admirer 
slipped a piece of real bacon into the saddlebags wrapped 
in the very same paper that had contained Bacon's Es- 
says; so that when our friend came to argue his case be- 



44 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

fore the court the next day he said: ''Now we will see 
what Bacon says about this." Proceeding to unwrap 
the supposed book, the piece of real bacon dropped out 
on the floor amidst the tremendous laughter of all pres- 
ent, including young Jackson himself. 

While he enjoyed jokes and pranks and everything 
of that sort, lie did not lose sight of his reading nor of 
his law study and practice. He attracted the attention 
of the leaders of the new nation, and they appointed him 
an attorney-general. This gave him much fame and 
added to his popularity. In the meantime several wars 
had come up between the white settlers and the Indians 
in which he had taken part, and always as a leader. He 
was fearless and dashing in his make-up and every one 
seemed to look to him to do the next thing. He led the 
white soldiers to victory over the Indians many times 
when defeat seemed to be staring them in the face. His 
own personal bearing inspired his followers with a de- 
termination to win at any cost to themselves. He had 
such wonderful control over himself that he could work 
when he was lazy, go right on when he was tired, over- 
come illness, and even ride and fight in battle when suf- 
fering from gunshot wounds of a serious nature. More- 
over, he never permitted himself to turn back when he 



46 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

had started to do a thing, or to be influenced by others 
to change his mind or sway him from that which he 
deemed wise and right and for the good of the greatest 
number of people. Because he was so strong-willed and 
such a complete master of himself I have called him ' ' The 
Iron Man. ' ' 

Of course, a man of such fien^ temperament would 
naturally make many personal enemies, especially since 
he was in politics ; and no leader of men in his day could 
keep out of politics. He was severely criticized for many 
of his policies by some of the leading men of that day, 
among them John Sevier, of whom you know; Thomas 
H. Benton, for whom both a county and a town in Ten- 
nessee are named; and by General Dickinson. In those 
days the only way to settle a dispute or criticism was by 
personal encounter in a duel. This was called the ' ' code 
of honor." Long since men have learned- that it takes 
more courage to say "No" to a challenge than it does 
to fight. So our friend immediately challenged his ene- 
mies to a duel. Friends prevented a personal encounter 
with Sevier; but the duel was fought with Benton, who 
was severely wounded, carrying the bullet to his grave. 
General Dickinson was an expert with pistols, and our 
friend was known to be a careless marksman, for whom 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 47 

his friends greatly feared. On the way to the dueling 
ground the General amused himself by clipping twigs off 
the trees, hitting certain marks as his horse galloped, 
and performing other marvelous feats with pistols. But 
the race has never been to the swift, nor the victory to 
the expert. At sunrise the contestants met. Our friend, 
who was somewhat tall and spare, wore a large, loose- 
fitting coat. When the word was given to ''fire,'' Gen- 
eral Dickinson quickly discharged his revolver and was 
surprised that our hero did not fall. The General, 
shocked into fright, took a step or two backward as if 
to retreat, but his second made him take his place again, 
whereupon our hero took deliberate aim and wounded 
the General so desperately that he died that night. Our 
hero did not escape so fortunately as he appeared, for 
when he walked out of sight behind a clump of bushes 
he displayed blood-stained garments from a severe wound 
which kept him abed some months. His great pride and 
magnificent iron will would not let him make known suf- 
fering in the presence of an enemy. 

Now we come to the second war between this coun- 
try and Great Britain, in which our hero was to play an 
important part. Already he had won much fame in the 
Indian wars and in his duels with men of distinction, 



48 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

so much so that he was a popular idol and worshiped 
as such by the people wherever he was known. The 
President of the United States sent word to this lawyer, 
warrior, political leader, that he was needed to thwart 
the American foe in the South, and the whole people re- 
joiced, for they felt that the country's honor was in safe 
hands. Our hero now wore the shoulder straps of a gen- 
eral, and he was to be sent to the defense of New Or- 
leans. He immediately gathered about him six thou- 
sand mountaineer riflemen from Kentucky and Tennes- 
see, many of whom had followed him to victory against 
the Creeks at Horseshoe Bend, and others who had been 
wit-h him when he smote the false Spaniard at Pensacola. 
They followed him with much eagerness now because vic- 
tory was in the air and they knew it. 

It is said that on the eve of the battle of New Orleans, 
our hero general was riding about the outskirts of his 
army seeing that everything w^as in readiness for the 
battle on the following day, when he met a British sol- 
dier who had strayed too far from his camp. They en- 
gaged in conversation about prospects. The Britisher 
said : ' ' Our general is Lord Packenham. Who is yours 1 ' ' 
To which our hero made reply: "Lord Jesus Christ and 
Gen. Andrew Jackson, and we'll whip the British to- 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 49 

morrow." And they did. He won this battle in twen- 
ty-five minutes, and only eight of our men were killed, 
while the enemy lost twenty-six hundred, including their 
general. But the war had really been over fourteen days 
when this famous victory was won. The treaty was 
signed at Ghent, in Belgium, but in those days news trav- 
eled so slowly that it was too late in getting there. But 
it made J ackson a national figure and every one expected 
him to be President some time, which high position he 
reached in 1829, serving eight years. He was very pop- 
ular as a President, although he ruled with an iron hand. 
By his prompt action in South Carolina in 1832 he put 
oft* the great Civil War for almost a generation. Had 
lie not shown that great spirit of independence as a boy 
wlien ordered to do a menial service by a British 
soldier, and had he failed to maintain that high 
spirit of independence, he would never have been 
the great man he was. After serving as an epoch- 
making President, he retired to his estate at The 
Hermitage, near Nashville, Tennessee, where he spent 
his declining years amid peaceful surroundings, rich in 
the estimation of his country and highly honored by the 
nations of the world. The end came peacefully in 1845, 
when he had lived seventy-eight years. This country 
has produced no greater man. 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 



51 



THE HUNTER HERO 

While the gallant young Virginian of whom you have 
just read was having his troublous times directing the 
affairs of the independent State of Frankland, there was 
born within the confines of this State, not far from where 
tlie Governor had his home, but on the opposite bank of 
the Nolachuckey River and in the same county where 




was the capital of this little province, a boy who was to 
leave for years to come his impress upon the entire coun- 
try. It was in 1786, on the seventeenth day of August, 
that Davy Crockett first saw the light of day; and the 
place was Greene County, only a few miles west of where 



52 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

Sevier lived in the county of Washington. No doubt 
you have noticed how most of the counties in many of 
the States bear the name of some distinguished liero of 
the early period of our country. Sevier has a county 
named for him, as Washington and Greene Counties are 
named for great men. Then, too, our hunter hero was 
bom not much more than a dozen miles from where Dan- 
iel Boone killed the bear of which you are told in an- 
other place in this book. And there are Boone and 
Crockett Counties. 

Davy's parents were poor, so poor that they could not 
send him to school; hence he gTew up with but little 
learning, but with great knowledge of the woods and 
fields and the wild animals that roamed the almost un- 
broken forest. In those days education seemingly was 
not so necessary as it is now. People lived mostly by 
hunting and trapping and fishing. They needed but lit- 
tle money; and when they traded, they used skins of ani- 
mals and powder and lead instead of money. Think how 
inconvenient it must have been to get along without 
money! 

If you could take a little journey with me, I would 
show you where Davy's house stood and where he was 
born. Old people say that for years and years there was 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 5:] 

an old apple tree in the yard of tlie old home of this 
boy who became a famous man and died a hero's death. 
I have seen people who ate apples from this old tree; 
and they were good apples, too. For years a sheep bani 
stood on a corner of the Crockett lot, and near it was 
a pile of stones and charred earth showing where the 
chimney of the old house had been. 

Like most people of his day, Davy married young. 
Sometimes when you are at Dandridge, in Jefferson 
County — ^another county bearing the name of a great man 
— ask the county court clerk to let you see Davy Crock- 
ett's marriage license. You will see that he was mar- 
ried to Polly Findley in 1806 when he was but twenty 
years of age. Despite the fact that his parents were poor 
and without money, Davy had learned to write as well 
as to hunt and to do other things requiring skilled hands 
and steady nerves. He had a native shrewdness that 
made him know he should be able to write his name if 
nothing more. Don't you think that was very fine in 
him? 

Here is a strange coincidence in the life of Davy 
Crockett. When he was born, John Sevier was governor 
of the State of Frankland, which in the very nature of 
things could not keep itself together for a long while; 



^R 



rV 









SOUTHERN HERO TALES 55 

and when lie was married to Polly Findley, Jolm Sevier 
was governor of the State of Tennessee, which had been 
in existence just ten years, with Sevier as governor eight 
out of the ten, and he was to remain in the governor's 
chair four years yet. 

But I have told you that Davy was a great hunter, 
and now I must tell you a little about him in that life 
of which he was so very fond. In those days there were 
a great many bears and deer and other wild animals, but 
not so many of this larger game as in the days of Daniel 
Boone. However, there was an abundance of smaller 
game, like the coon and fox and beaver, all of which were 
interesting \o the hunter even if they were small. Davy 
kept a large pack of hounds to aid him in hunting the 
fox and coon when deer and bear could not be found. 
Often the chase was long, and sometimes they were away 
from home many days at a time in quest of game of 
all sorts. He grew to be very skillful with his old-fash- 
ioned long rifle, and could kill a bear as far as his eagle 
eye could see to shoot or his trusty rifle would send a 
bullet, which was a long, long way. Aside from selling 
the fur of these animals, Davy often wore clothing made 
from their skins, and he and his neighbors frequently 
used their meat for food. There is a sort of fable that 



56 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

so dangerous to the animals of the forest was Davy 
on account of his skill with his long rifle that they came 
to know of him through each other by animal language 
and were always on the lookout for him. It is said that 
one day an old, old coon was high up in a big oak tree 
sunning himself, when some dogs "treed" him. Soon 
their master came up and was about to take aim at the 
coon with his good rifle, when the old coon called out: 
"Is that you, Davy!" And when he answered, "Yes," 
the old coon said: "Don't shoot, Mr. Crockett, V\\ come 
down; for IVe heard your gun never misses fire and 
your aim is sure." So the coon came down, and Davy 
did not have to waste his powder and lead, but got the 
coon anyway. 

They tell another story about how skillful Davy was 
when he wanted to do a sort of mischievous thing, which 
in these days might be called stealing, but which in those 
old days was counted good-natured fun. It is said that 
Davy was making a journey by boat on the Mississippi 
Eiver. At that time it was customary to "treat" — 
that is, to provide a drink from the boat tavern for all 
on board. Sometimes this entailed a heavy expense on 
the person doing the treating, and as money was not 
very plentiful it often became a serious question. Davy 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 57 

Crockett was in his usual condition — without money. 
He was dressed in tlie ordinary manner — coon-skin cap, 
hunting shirt, and trousers of the skins of animals. 
Moreover, he carried his long hunting rifle. He had with 
him a coon skin which he offered as pay for ^'drinks to 
go 'round." I suppose this was when he was a candi- 
date for office and that many of his voters were on board 
the old-fashioned boat. You know even in these good days 
candidates sometimes ''treat" the voters. Well, when 
Davy's coon-skin money gave out he didn't know what 
to do, for he had no more money. The bar keeper had 
carelessly tossed the skin, with several others, in one 
corner of the room, but near the counter. Our hunter, 
with the keen eye for which he was noted, discovered 
the tail of his former coon skin protruding a little too 
far his way over the counter. Knowing that soon he 
would have to treat again, he pulled the tail and the 
skin came his way. A few minutes later he was called 
upon to again treat the crowd, whereupon he offered his 
coon skin in payment. The barkeeper took it, thinking, 
no doubt, that such a hunter as Crockett was known to 
be would have a great many skins for sale. He threw 
the hide in exactly the same place and it fell in the same 
position. Again Davy slyly slipped it out by the tail 



58 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

and again treated his friends. He kept this up for seven 
successive times, and would no doubt have succeeded sev- 
eral more times, only they came to the end of their jour- 
ney. And the barkeeper never discovered that he had 
bought his own coon skin six times. The incident gTeat- 
ly amused many of the men on the boat, who all the while 
knew what the keen hunter was doing, but they would 
not tell on him. Do you blame them? 

Not long after the marriage with Polly Findley, Davy 
moved over into West Tennessee and entered politics. 
In the early days, when a man had a special gift for 
speaking, was a great story-teller, a great hunter, or 
achieved local fame in any way, the people thought he 
ought to be elected to Congress or some other high of- 
fice. It sometimes happened that a man would win out 
in politics first because the people liked him, and not so 
much because he was specially fitted for the high posi- 
tion to which he was chosen. Now while our friend was 
not a great scholar, he was far above the average in his 
ideals of the best things for the people and of what laws 
ought to be made to suit a majority of the citizens of 
the State. Then he was of a friendly spirit, which made 
him very popular with every one who knew him. In ad- 
dition to his general principles of friendship, he was a 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 59 

brave and fearless man when it came to fighting. In 
the war against the Creek Indians he showed so much 
skill and bravery that the soldiers elected him their 
colonel, a very high honor in those days. So you see 
he had some claim to the confidence and esteem of the 
people aside from his skill and prowess as a hunter. 

After having been elected to the legislature from Giles 
County, and later from Obion County, whither he had 
moved, he was elected to the National Congress in 1827. 
This was indeed a great recognition for a man who had 
gone to school but four days in his life. But there were 
many ^e traits about him, and his friends never failed 
to tell these good things. One story is particularly in- 
teresting. It is said that when Crockett was just a youth 
he learned that his father owed a rather well-to-do man 
a small sum which he seemingly could not pay. Davy 
went to the man and made a bargain whereby, if he 
worked a whole year for the hard taskmaster, a clear 
receipt should be given. This he is said to have done 
in order that he might have the pleasure of seeing the 
look of joj^'ous surprise on his father's face when the 
paid note should be presented to him at the end of the 
year. A boy who would do this would be sure to win, 
don't you think? 



60 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

But even if Davy was good-natured and jovial and 
popular with the people, he was independent and would 
permit no one to control him. General Jackson was 
President, and, being from Tennessee, he thought Colonel 
Crockett, likewise a Tennessean, ought to support him 
as President in all the things he did. In his manner be- 
fore the people Colonel Crockett had won them by stand- 
ing for what he thought was right. He had many quaint 
and curious sayings, all of which he used in his cam- 
paigns and in his utterances against President Jackson. 
One of them you have heard often, and I have heard it 
used by many people far, far away from Tennessee. It 
is: '^Be sure you are right, then go ahead." It was 
his motto, and he followed it carefully all his life. In 
whatever he did he was sure in his own mind that he 
was right. Once coming to the conclusion, no power 
could change him, and he never faltered in his endeavor 
to carry out his life purpose. 

After serving four years in Congress he was defeated, 
then elected, and again defeated in 1835. You would 
not think a man with so little learning would dare write 
a book, but he wrote two during his last term in Con- 
gress, and they were good books, 'tis said. Everybody 
read them because of their true sayings expressed in 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 61 

quaint and Immorous language. He made a trip to Bos- 
ton with a number of distinguished men, and wrote a 
story about it which was widely read. He did not like 
Martin Van Buren, whom Jackson wanted for his suc- 
cessor as President. So he wrote a scathing and ridic- 
ulous book about him which was full of many amusing 
things, most of which were true. For this, Jackson and 
his friends in Tennessee never forgave Crockett; and 
when time for his reelection came, they used all their 
forces against him and succeeded in his defeat. 

I have said that Colonel Crockett was independent. 
He was also a man of very great pride, so much so that 
when he was defeated he would not remain in Tennessee, 
but decided to leave the State forever. Perhaps he did 
not exactly mean it that way, but so it proved, as you 
shall soon see. 

About this time Texas, wliich you know as the ''Lone 
Star State," was having a serious struggle with Mexico 
for her independence. On every side she seemed be- 
sieged with foes that should have been her friends. The 
Mexicans were doing all they could to retain Texas re- 
gardless of what should happen to the people who had 
gone there to make it their home. Many brave men from 
the South and the East, attracted by the heroic strug- 



62 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

gle Texas was making for independence, went to this 
great new country that seemed to be so full of evil days. 
Once there, they took on the true spirit of Texas and 
could not get away, but must stay and fight what seemed 
a losing battle. 

Chagrined by defeat and smarting under the vic- 
tory of his enemies, our friend turned his footsteps 
toward this new country, seeking an independence which 
he always kept for himself, and determined to help her 
all he could. He joined the army and was in the famous 
siege of the Alamo, where, on March 6, 1836, by over- 
whelming numbers, he, with many another brave fellow, 
met a soldier's death at the hands of the barbaric Mex- 
icans, who, not content with murdering the people within 
the fort, poured kerosene on the bodies, some of which 
were not yet dead, and set fire thereto, that they might 
enjoy the hideous pleasure of seeing the blaze. It is 
said that Crockett with his trusty rifle slew a dozen 
Mexicans before they finally overpowered and killed him 
and his brave companions, among whom were the young 
and chivalrous Lieutenant Travis and brave Colonel 
Bowie, inventor of the famous knife that bears his name. 

Thus Avent out in a seemingly useless manner the life 
of Davy Crockett at the age of fifty, all too soon we 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 63 

would think; yet he has left a saying that will live for 
many, many years, a name that brightens the pages of 
history, and a heroism that thrills us with delight at the 
very mention of his name. But the death of Crockett 
and his brave followers was not in vain. It set the whole 
country on fire at the cruel manner in which death came, 
so that the Mexican War was hastened, if not entirely 
caused, by the heartless murders; and within ten years 
from his ignoble death the whole country was avenged 
of his sad fate, and to-day Texas is one of the most glo- 
rious in our great sisterhood of States. 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 65 



A BORN LEADER 

When one walks for days and days up hill and down 
over valley and dale, it is tiresome; but when one walks 
for days and days up one high mountain and down an- 
other, one gets very, very tired. Only the most persist- 
ent spirit and the greatest desire for better things could 



A^ 



^^^^ 



tr 
*^. 




Andrew Johnson 

keep a tired woman and little boy, leading an old horse 
hitched to a cart, going day after day, even after all three 
were so tired that many times before nightfall they 
wanted so much to rest by the hot and dusty roadside 
and moisten their thirsty lips at the little spring from 



66 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

which ran a swift-flowing stream down the steep moun- 
tain side. The wayworn mother knew they must keep 
on; the bright-eyed boy, with his bare feet and face of 
tan and coal-black hair, knew they must keep on; even 
the lazy, laggard old horse seemed to know there was as 
yet no place to stop. 

As they pushed their tiresome journey on the moun- 
tain top where the road was level and somewhat wider 
than the average, two horsemen rode by, one on a very 
line steed which he sat with a gracefulness that would 
excite envy even in the heart of the best of riders. He 
sat as erect as an Indian; his horse pranced with all the 
pride of the Arab steeds from which he was descended, 
and arched his proud neck in a knowing way as his mas- 
ter gently drew the rei|fn and bowed in that chivalrous 
way known only to a Southerner in the presence of wom- 
en. The mother and her handsome son stood aside to let 
the horsemen ride by. The boy looked at the distinguislied 
rider who lifted his hat so politely, and, turning to his 
mother with tears in his eyes, said: ^^ Mother, I'd like 
to be a. man like that ! " 

The man was Andrew Jackson, ''The Iron Man," of 
whom you have heard much already, and the boy was 
Andrew Johnson, of whom you are yet to hear much. 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 67 

What an ins])i ration to the lad nnist have been the fine- 
looking young lawyer as he rode by on his magnificent 
horse with all the pride of a conqueror; for he had it in 
his mind to do some big things in his life, and the an- 
ticipated glory shone from his brilliant eyes and re- 
flected on his beaming countenance. Yes, and I think 
the boy must have gotten great inspiration from the high 
mauntains which on every side lifted their rugged peaks 
high into the heavens and told a story of strength and 
power and beauty all their own. He could look at them 
and say: "P^rom you I shall draw my inspiration for 
high and noble deeds. Your builder and maker is God 
himself; and if men fail me, I know I may look and be- 
ll old you, always standing pointing upward and beckon- 
ing me to do my best. You are always faithful and true 
as God made you." In after years Andrew Johnson did 
point to those beloved mountains and call them his 
beacon lights of faith and power and hope. 

Just at sunset of a long, hot, sultry day, this boy and 
his mother came to a little village which had once been 
the capital of the ill-starred State of Frankland, and 
sought rest for the night. Here they soon decided to 
make their home. Little did they or those who gave 
them aid think that in vears to come this barefooted lad 



68 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

would make their little town known from one end of the 
nation to the other, and that in the most troublesome 
times the nation was to ever see. Even to-day, after 
Andrew Johnson has been dead nearly forty years, peo- 
ple come from long distances just to see the old shop in 
which this boy worked and where he grew to manhood 
as a tailor; many of his tools — such as needles, thimbles, 
and the tailor's goose — are to be seen in the house of 
his grandson, Hon. Andrew Johnson Patterson, who re- 
sides in the old Johnson home at Greeneville, Tenn. Were 
you to visit this little town, people would point with 
pride to a little old house in the upstairs of which An- 
drew Johnson made his first speech. But I am antici- 
pating my story. 

In such a life as his you would expect a little of 
the romantic as well as so much of the picturesque and 
fearless doing. It has been said, and perhaps truly so, 
that a little turn of Fortune's wheel, which we sometimes 
call luck or chance or accident, has more to do with 
our lives than all the careful planning we may do. We 
will now see how an idle, flippant remark led to the 
molding of a life that was to tell mightily for a great 
nation in times when strong men quivered at the burden 
of responsibility and when their souls grew sick at 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 



69 



the thought of possible failure. As this boy and 
his mother came down the one street of the strag- 
gling village of Greeneville, some girls were playing 





' 


'^^^^^S 


Slil:i''*|-? 






il- 




-.^^^^ 








^•** 






^^p^ 




•■ 


■ 


1 


l^s^fl 


P 


1 





Shop of Andrew Johnson, Tailor 
At Greeneville, Tenn. 



under the shade of a friendly oak by the roadside. They 
looked at the unique sight with some amusement, 
but they were used to travelers, and the incident would 



70 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

perhaps have passed unnoticed had it not been for 
the fine appearance of the lad with his smooth face and 
coal-black hair. One of the girls playing in the shade 
turned to her companions and said: ''Girls, there goes 
my beau; now see if it isn't!" Of course no attention 
was paid to the remark, but more came of it. The boy 
and his mother took up residence in the hamlet, and soon 
he as a tailor became acquainted with other tradesmen 
of the town, who were of material aid to each other, 
among them one Thomas McCardle, a cobbler. This cob- 
bler had a daughter, Eliza, and it was slie who made the 
above remark upon first seeing Andrew Johnson the day 
he came to Greeneville. Naturally, with so many things 
in common, they came to know each other well, and with- 
in a year their love pledges were realized in a happy 
marriage, which no doubt had nmch to do with making 
Andrew Johnson tlie great man he was. As a boy he 
had been unable to go to school any, for his father, Jacob 
Johnson, was a very, very poor man, who could not even 
read in the simplest of books, and certainly could not 
write. He worked away all day long at his tailor's 
goose, nimbly plying his needle from early morning until 
far into the night. When finally the day's work was 
closed — not finished, for he never really finished — he sat 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 7.1 

with his young wife, who taught him to read. He learned 
rapidly, but his developing mind suffered for informa- 
tion he did not have time to acquire, because he had to 
work all the day long to provide for himself and family 
the necessities of life. His good wife, busy with her 
household duties, could not read to him all the time. 
What was he to do! Already his active mind was turn- 
ing to liistory, government affairs, and constitutional 
ideals. It took a great deal of reading in those days 
to l)e informed on such subjects, for there were few 
newspapers, and most people got their information from 
books and pubUc debates. So Andrew Johnson liked 
people to read for him while he worked at his trade of 
making clothes. He paid fifty cents a day for these read- 
ers, and only a short time ago there was a man still liv- 
ing in Greeneville who had been paid to read to this man 
who was to become great by the things he knew and the 
things he accomplished. Nothing seemed to escape his 
wonderful mind. When he had more money and more 
time and could purchase books and read them, he became 
a very close student of words. He kept a dictionary near 
all the time, and it is said that he never had to look at 
any word the second time, so- wonderful a memory did 
he possess. 



72 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

As he grew in knowledge of books and constitutional 
government, his knowledge of men was not lost. Nor 
were the people of Greeneville slow to note and appreci- 
ate his fine development. They began talking about 
making him their leader, and soon elected him mayor of 
the little town. Not long after this a member of the 
legislature was to be elected for Greene and Hawkins 
Counties. Several men had announced from various 
parts of the two counties. A group of citizens, includ- 
ing some candidates themselves, were discussing the sit- 
uation in one of the stores one night. Andrew Johnson 
was sitting on the counter listening to the discussion, 
saying a word now and then himself. He slid down off 
the counter and said rather excitedly: ''I'm in that fight, 
too!" This was the real beginning of his career. He 
was elected to the lower house, later went to the State 
Senate, for which he was defeated in his second race, but 
was again elected in the third race. In the Senate he 
was one of the ''Immortal Thirteen," which by their ac- 
tion caused Tennessee to be without any representation 
in the Senate of the United States for two years. Soon 
he was elected to Congress, and then governor of Tennes- 
see for two terms, and finally was given the very highly 
exalted honor of being elected to the Senate of the United 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 73 

States, in which position he was serving when the great 
Civil War came up. Many States in the South declared 
their independence of the Federal government and se- 
ceded, among them Tennessee. President Lincoln placed 
Tennessee under military government, with Andrew 
Johnson as governor. He was a Democrat in politics, but 
was for the Union, and was in politics what was known 
in those days as a ^' Union Democrat." Despite the fact 
that a great many people in Tennessee — in fact, a great 
majority of them — favored secession and slavery. Gov- 
ernor Johnson was very popular and did much to make 
less frightful the horrible evils of war in the State he 
had adopted for his own. It was a great blessing to 
Tennessee and her citizens that President Lincoln placed 
him in charge of her affairs. He lived in Nashville, and 
was there nearly two years without seeing his wife, be- 
cause the rules of war would not permit her passage 
from her home far up in the mountains of the State, where 
the people were largely Union in sentiment, to the middle 
portion of the State, where their sympathy was largely 
for the Confederacy. Andrew Johnson was so popular and 
magnetic as a public speaker and a leader of men that 
he could speak to an audience greatly opposed to him 
in principle and receive tbeir hearty applause, as the fol- 



74 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

lowing incident will illustrate. He was expected to 
speak in a town the majority of whose citizens were 
against the Union. It was just at the breaking out of the 
war and feeling ran high, with hostilities ready to break 
out almost everywhere at practically any time. A great 
crowd had assembled at the station, among them some 
boys from a near-by college who came with the evident 
intention of breaking up the meeting. When the train 
came in, Senator Johnson got no further than tlie sta- 
tion platform, so great were the cries: "Speech! Speech!" 
For more than two hours he spoke in tones of eloquence 
and magnetism and persuasiveness for which few men 
are noted. He swayed the great audience by a mere nod 
of his head or beck of the hand until they hung on his 
very words. When he had finished, there was a breathless 
silence. The boys who came to do mischief gave one se- 
cession yell, when, to their utter astonishment, there was 
not a single response, and they had to flee rapidly to 
escape arrest. The personality of Andrew Johnson was 
greater than any sentiment, and the peo])le, though op- 
posed to him in principle, would not permit the smallest 
hick of respect to a man of such charm and power and 
liigh thought. 

In 1864 the supporters of President Lincoln felt that 



75 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

lie should have a running mate from the South who 
ao-reed with him on his war policy. They chose Andrew 




Monument OF A^^ni: I \^ ,i..iix-<.x 

At Greeneville, Tenn. 

(Our only President whose body lies in a 

National Cemetery cared for by the 

Federal Government) 

Johnson, who proved to he a fine vote-getter. When 
Mr. Lincoln died in 1865, Mr. Johnson, as Vice Presi- 



76 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

dent, became President of the United States, the highest 
honor any man may have in this country. He tried to 
carry out Mr. Lincoln's plans, as well as his own, for the 
South, and in so doing incurred the displeasure of Con- 
gress; but most of the people of the country trusted him 
always, and his faith in them never wavered for a mo- 
ment. His qualities of leadership were foresight, mag- 
netism, and personal fearlessness. 

When he came to the White House, his good wife was 
an invalid, and their daughter, Mrs. Martha Patterson, 
did the honors as the first lady of the land. When peo- 
ple sought to pay her homage, she said: ''I am but a 
plain woman from the mountains of Tennessee; and if 
you seek to do me honor, you must honor my people 
also." Such noble sentiment could not fail to find a re- 
sponsive note in the hearts and minds of the whole peo- 
ple of the country. 

Andrew Johnson served for four years as President and 
then retired to the quiet and peace of his old home at 
Grreeneville ; but the people would not have it so, and 
again sent him to the Senate of the United States. He had 
1)een there but a short time when death called him. A tall 
marble shaft marks his last resting place on a hilltop 
near Greeneville in what is now a National Cemetery, 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 77 

made so by the ceaseless energy of Congressman Wal- 
ter Preston Brownlow, another man of whom a great 
story may be written. If you go to Greeneville, the peo- 
ple will point with pride to this hilltop, and you will 
read on the monument: ''His faith in the people never 
wavered. ' ' 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 79 



WALKING TO CONGRESS 

It was a little house, and the rough split boards of the 
roof were held on by old logs and rocks, while the floor 
was made of puncheon — the halves of split logs held 
in place by wooden pins in bored holes. The spaces be- 
tween the rough logs forming the walls were filled by 
small stones, red clay, and gravel. From the rafters in- 
side^ — for there was no ceiling to this crude house of a 
home— hung bits of dried venison, smoked bacon, basket 
timber, seasoned hickory for ax handles, an old fishing 
])ole made of slender pine in its natural growth — no knife 
had touched it except to take the peel off — two or three 
half-finished baskets, splits for chairs, some garden seed, 
a paper sack of sage leaves, and a rag bag of old clothes. 
Over the rude door — there was only one door — reposing 
safely in its rack made of natural forks cut from the sour- 
wood — a tree of small gi'owth well known in the South- 
ern Appalachians — was the old-fashioned, muzzle-load- 
ing family rifle, more than six feet long from end of muz- 
zle to hollow of stock, and with which its owner could 
pick a squirrel from the highest tree, kill a Virginia red 



80 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

deer on the run, or pierce the vital spots of a bear at 
long range. Long years of practice, backed up by gen- 
erations of forebears who were mountaineers, had given 
this man the peculiar and unerring skill of the men of 
the mountains. William B. Campbell, John Sevier, Isaac 
Shelby, and Colonel Cleveland knew what they were 
about when they selected riflemen from this mountain 
region to fight the battle of King's Mountain, October 
7, 1780. They were men who could shoot straight, re- 
load quickly, and fire all day without getting tired or 
losing nerve. And when Samuel Doak, founder of the 
first institution of learning in the Mississippi Valley, of- 
fered prayer for these moimtain men at Sycamore Shoals 
on their way to fight this battle, which was to be the 
turning point for the friends of liberty in the Revolu- 
tionary War, he knew he was praying for men who could 
back up his prayers with deeds of valor, because the red 
blood in their veins was from ancestors whose lifeblood 
had made wet many another battlefield in the cause of 
freedom. 

On the blackened and unpapered and unceiled walls of 
this log cabin were pasted a few old, old pictures — such 
as ^^The Mill,'' ^^ Lincoln and His Cabinet," ^^Washing- 
ton on Horseback," ^^The Four Seasons," aiid others of 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 81 

a similar nature. But they were dark and soiled and al- 
most beyond recognition. Doubtless they had been gath- 
ered from some sale of old property in a well-to-do fann- 
ing community, or had been presented with the compli- 
ments of the country merchant far away. But they 
showed a little love for the higher and more refined 
things of life, and were better there than not. In this 
one room the family of several slept, cooked, and ate. 
The absence of half a log in one side of the house served 
for extra light. At nights and in stormy weather it was 
closed by a rough board hung on hinges made of leather 
taken from pieces of worn-out boots. The fireplace at 
which the family warmed themselves and before which 
their meals were cooked was full five feet wide and al- 
most as deep. The ^^arch" was made by a huge oak 
piece, the trunk of quite a large tree. As far as the 
^^hips," just above the fireplace, the chimney was of 
sandstone, found in abundance in these mountains. The 
rest of the way it was of small split sticks and mud, 
known locally as ''stick and mud" chimney. The big 
hearth was of two large, flat limestone rocks, of which the 
little valley, watered by a trickling stream, was well sup- 
plied. An old-time "four poster" served as the sleep- 
ing place for the father, mother, and smaller children, 



82 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

while the larger children slept in the 'trundle bed," kept 
securely hidden during the day pushed back under the 
other bed. Tliree or four chairs, a long bench, a table 
for dining, and a smaller table known as the "cook ta- 
ble," made up the articles of furniture in this home. 
The exterior of the house was about what you would 
expect from the description of the interior. A stranger 
who knew not the ways of the mountaineers would not 
count it, at best, more than a small stable where sheep 
or cattle miglit be housed in safety if the weather were 
not too rough. Rut a dwelling place for folks who are 
to take part in the affairs of the nation and whose an- 
cestry have helped save the day on well-known battle- 
fields — ^never ! 

A few acres of cleared land about the house, culti- 
vated by the father, mother, and all the children, helped 
to give them a living, for they didn't need much. The 
rocks were far more plentiful than the stalks of corn and 
beans, and even more abundant than the potatoes and 
onions that grew in the thin soil. But somehow they 
managed to live. This was not many years following 
the close of the Civil War, and every one lived on little. 
The country in which this home was located lies far up 
in the mountains, and at that time was miles from anv 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 83 

railroad or otlier public carrier. It had no schools to 
speak of, but few churches, and practically no roads. 
In the census of 1900 it was the third most illiterate 
county of native white voters in the United States. But 
ill the Civil War and in the little unpleasantness of one 
hundred days with Spain it furnished its full quota of 
volunteers for the government army, and would again 
to-morrow if called upon. 

One of these mountain States, West Virginia by name, 
has for her motto, ''Montani semper liberi," which being 
freely translated reads: "Mountaineers are always free- 
men." And so the people of this little mountain county 
feel. Surrender to a strange power they might do, but 
accept conditions of tyranny — never. The oncoming 
civilization may change their conditions, make them live 
in painted houses, wear store clothes, eat ''breakfast 
food," and put on a high collar with square corners, but 
it will never change their patriotism and belief in the 
old-fashioned religion of ultra-Protestantism. 

The humble home of which I write was located at the 
head of a cove quite a way up the mountain side near 
a great spring whose water nourished the ten-acre lot in 
the midst of which was the house. The clearing was 
practically the last vestige of civilization as you went 



84 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

from the little comity seat, not more than a village, across 
the Allegheny Mountains into North Carolina. In this 
part of Tennessee (for it is of that State this is written) 
there were many travelers from the low country out 
along the rivers of the valley who came this way either 
to purchase a calf or two from the mountaineers or to 
take the old Indian trail leading into the neighboring- 
State, whither they were going for the same purpose. 
Now and then, being unexpectedly overtaken by the 
shades of night or a severe mountain storm, the weary 
traveler would seek rest for himself and his tired horse 
within the hospitable walls of some mountaineer's lonely 
hut; for the mountain man is ever ready to share his 
scanty fare with friend and foe alike, if only he be 
ahungered. Late one afternoon in early spring, a cattle 
buyer, seeing an impending storm, drew rein before tlie 
lonely chalet of which I write and sought shelter botli 
from the coming storm and the fast-falling night. There 
was nothing unusual about the stranger to distinguish 
him from others of his kind. His lazy, swinging stride, 
careless wearing of the clothing, wide hat, and unkempt 
beard and hair at once betokened his free life so far as 
conventionalities go. But withal there was keen native 
intelligence in his look. His horse was good for that 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 85 

country, and his saddle was of the Texas style, just then 
coming into use in that section. The comforts he sought 
were not denied, and soon after partaking of their frugal 
meal the entire family gathered about the large open 
hearth to hear what news the stranger might bring from 
other settlements, and also from the county seat some 
miles away, where, as a horse and cattle dealer, he went 
on '^ first Mondays" to ply his business. While the 
storm raged without in midnight darkness, bending huge 
trees in its fierce path, and while the rain fell in tor- 
rents upon the '^board-and-rock-pole" roof, the visitor 
gave the news as he had gathered it in many days of 
travel. After telling all the local and general news, and 
being quite loquacious, as you often find these traders, 
he proceeded to expostulate upon success in life in gen- 
eral. You know there are some people who have never 
achieved any great success, but who can tell you how 
it ought to be done. It happened that our friend, the 
trader, belonged to this class. In the course of his re- 
marks he talked at length on what a '^leetle larnin^ in 
books mout do fer a feller," telling how some one 
whom he had seen went to school and was afterward 
given a fine position in a store; how another had been 
made president of a college; how another had become a 



86 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

11 

great preacher ^'up in York State;" and liow still an- 
other had studied surgery, and how he had seen him in 
^^'bout a minute saw off er man's leg what had been 
crushed in er sawmill." This sage of the mountains 
would wind up his philosophical remarks by saying: ^'If 
T was a youngster, I'd go to skule. It's kind uv quare 
what a leetle eddication'll du fer ye. Hit seems to be 
just like spring rain on late-planted corn — fetch hit 
all out ter onct. ' ' And with this wise remark he shifted 
his chew of tobacco to the other side of his mouth and 
spat in the dying embers. 

The Awakening 
This little incident is told just to tell the story of one 
boy, and he lived in this humble mountain home, and his 
name was John — that is his name yet. He was the oldest 
of the family. His mass of thickly matted black hair 
overhanging keen black eyes did not tell a story any 
different from that of other boys or from other members 
of the family. In his eighteenth year he had hardly been 
out of his own '^deestrict," but remembered one journey 
to the countv seat, fifteen miles awav. For schooling: he 
had read the ''blue-backed" speller and could spell 
nearly all of its words, knowing many columns by heart. 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 87 

from "baker" to "incomprehensibility." He bad 
learned this by the light of the pine torch at night as 
much as from the poorly equipped school which he at- 
tended two or three months in the year. But he had 
that much learning, anyway. His knowledge of things 
was very limited. How could it be otherwise? His 
chief asset lay in the good health and spirit of free in- 
dependence from breathing the pure air of the moun- 
tains more than two thousand feet above the level of the 
sea. He looked with awe upon a stranger and almost 
trembled with timidity at the thought of meeting and 
having to speak to some one he had never seen. Even 
while this stranger had been talking to the father, the 
boy lay almost hidden by the pots and other vessels for 
cooking placed away in the corner. Nevertheless, the 
words of the stranger had made a deep impression on his 
strong, but undeveloped, mind, and long after the guest 
had taken his departure, for he went with the breaking 
of the storm, the boy lay in his crude bed, but little 
better than a pile of oak leaves, and thought and thought 
and thought. Little by little it came to his untutored 
mind that he, too, might go to school and become edu- 
cated. What a long step it was in the civilization of 
the race when the common man rose up in his strength 



88 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

and majesty and said: ''I, too, will go to school; I, too, 
will become educated!" Great it was because the vast 
majority of the human race are common people, anyway. 

The next day, as the boy and his father and the other 
members of the family went about their spring work, 
he could not forget what the stranger had said. Some- 
how the words kept ringing in his ears, and he thought 
of the familiar simile used by the stranger and wondered 
if his life could be ''fetched out" any. The birds sang 
in the trees, the squirrels in the near-by forest snapped 
the unfolding buds, and the boy thought more and more. 
At last he took courage to mention it to his father. 
What a load lifted from his heart as he thus spoke and 
saw that his father was pleased! 

But how was he to go to school! His father had no 
money. The little plot of land yielded hardly a living. 
Nothing had been saved all these years against ''a rainy 
day. ' ' Only the most meager living had been had from the 
tilling of the little farm, and that had to be supplemented 
by game from the father's trusty rifle. Then, where was 
a school, anyway, and how would he get there? It was 
thirty miles to a railway and he had never seen a train; 
besides, if there were a dozen railroads by his home, he 
couldn't go without money. His father, slow of thought 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 89 

as lie was, began to hope and plan a little for the boy, too. 
It stirred his pride to think that a son of his should be con- 
cerned enough to plan to go to school, and that, too, 
when he had nothing with which to plan. As the sum- 
mer days came and went the boy and the father had a 
growing desire for the school and what it might do. 
There was the yearling calf which had been meant to 
purchase winter shoes and other clothing for the family, 
and which they had refused to sell to the trader for that 
very reason. But now it was decided that he should go 
to help John. He would probably not bring more than 
ten dollars, and the folks could get shoes and clothing 
some way, however difficult it might be. But when 
should he go, and how should he get there! After much 
pondering it was decided that he ought to go to one of 
the Eastern colleges. How did he leam about it? He 
had heard his teacher tell about old man Johnson's son, 
Henry, who had gone there and became great in math- 
ematics — so great that he had made his way by coach- 
ing the sons of the wealthy and getting them ready for 
their final examinations. Neither John nor his father 
knew about the entrance requirements or anything of 
that sort. 



90 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

Launching Out 
80 one day in the early fall, when the fodder was in 
the shock on the ten-acre lot, the potatoes had been put 
away, and only the pumpkins and beans and nuts re- 
mained to be garnered, John, with his steer money of 
ten big dollars in his pocket, left the little home far u]i 
in the mountains, and with his worldly possessions done 
up in an old carpet bag, the gift of a friend of the fam- 
ily, he set out to walk the thirty miles to the nearest 
railway town. It was a bright autumnal morning. The 
chestnuts and hickorynuts were just beginning to shed 
their luscious fruit. Now and then a squirrel on his way 
to his winter home with a nut in his paws would cross 
the path, and John, too, would stop to gather a few nuts 
for his own use. But he trudged on, and when noon came 
he sat down by a friendly tree, from under which flowed a 
cool spring, to eat his lunch of simple food put up by 
his mother. Late in the afternoon he arrived at the sta- 
tion but little worse for his journey of thirty miles. It 
was not much of a walk for his supple young body and 
strong, wiry limbs. He had never seen a train, nor even 
the picture of one. His heart almost jumped from its 
place when he saw the little switch engine back up to 
shift some cars, and he wondered where he would ride. 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 91 

But the kind man in charge took him to the station agent, 
who, when he found wliere the boy wanted to go, looked 
with amazement at his coarse shoes, homespun ''jeans,'' 
and cheap hat, and wondered how he would look in a 
city. However, the agent knew little more about the 
distant city than did John; but when he told John that 
it took almost four times as much money as he had to 
get there, the boy said: ''Well, gimme er ticket ez fer ez 
it'll go." At ten o'clock that night he boarded his first 
train, and in about twenty-four hours left it. What 
thrilling sensations crept over him as the roar of the 
locomotive, together with the thought of leaving home, 
came to him ! But he was going where he could be made 
to open up like the corn in the spring. He slept but 
little that first night, and the second night his ticket had 
all been used. Fortunately his mother had given him 
ample rations and he yet had food. Fortunately again, 
he was put off at a small country station in a fine farm- 
ing country. Undismayed, he set out to walk the high- 
way that led along the railroad. When he became tired, 
he crept into a convenient haystack, and with that and 
the friendly stars for covering, he slept the sleep of 
wearied youth until the bright morning sun awoke him 
just as the farmer and his hired men were going to 



92 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

liarvest the corn. Many generations of mountain dwell- 
ers liad made liim unafraid in the dark, but he did shrink 
from strangers. However, the friendly farmer bade him 
go to the house for a warm breakfast and asked him to 
work a day or two. But these lengthened into weeks, 
and when the farmer's busy work was over John had 
enough money to take him more than another day's jour- 
ney, which brought him to within less than one hundred 
and fifty miles of his destination. 

Still undaunted, he trudged the rest of the way, and 
made more than thirty miles a day, too. 

Arriving at the little city one bright noonday in late 
autumn, for the seasons are earlier there than in the 
Southern mountains, he inquired of a street man the way 
to the college. The citizen eyed the newcomer in a curi- 
ous sort of way. Well, he did look a little odd. In the 
five weeks since he left home he had had no change of 
top clothes. His brown '^ jeans" and cowhide shoes, 
homemade, were beginning to look the worse for the 
wear. He looked almost as unpromising as did Benja- 
min Franklin when he appeared in the streets of Phila- 
delphia and met Deborah Eeed more than one hundred 
years before. But he was just as courageous as was 
Franklin. 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 93 

Finding his way into the college, he was soon shown 
how wholly unprepared he was for the work there. But 
the professor who gave him this information remembered 
that other students had come from these Southern moun- 
tains. In fact, he remembered Johnson. He did not 
look at the well-worn garments, nor the mass of hair, 
nor the rough, bony hands, but rather he saw the keen- 
ness of the boy's eyes and thou2:ht there might be a 
future to him. He then told him of the city public 
schools, and even if he had no money a way could be 
made. Soon a home was found for him with a wealthy 
merchant, with whom he had his living for the chores. 
In a comparatively brief time he finished the public- 
school course, then the preparatory course, and was ad- 
mitted to college. 

With the courage that comes from one success after 
another, he finished his college course with honors that 
meant even more than honorable mention. His class 
standing exempted him from examination and likewise 
graduated him as valedictorian. Like Horace Maynard, 
who won fame and greatness in the region from which 
our hero migrated, he seemed to have unconsciously 
written high up on the wall of his room the letter ''V," 
and lived to see it grow into the highest honor a class 



94 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

might give or a college bestow. His years back in the 
mountains had ^iven him powers of endurance, and his 
simple life had endowed him with qualities of mental 
growth almost unparalleled among the student body 
whose association and companionship he so greatly rel- 
ished and enjoyed. 

But his busy, studious days had not kept him from some 
diversions that might develop another side of his nature 
— a side which we all seem to possess, whether rich or 
poor, bond or free, peasant or noble. Coming of a race 
noted for their far-seeing statesmanship and combative 
qualities developed by long, long ages of fighting in de- 
fense of home and native land, he was ever ready for 
that which would try his mettle. In the college town 
there lived a very wealthy man whose beautiful daughter 
was a classmate of our timid and backward friend. But 
her beauty did not escape his eye, trained as it was more 
for the squirrel and the inhabitant of the forest than for 
the beauty of the city. When out of college and into 
the law school in the same town, he did not forget this 
fair daughter of a noble house; yet he hardly dared ap- 
proach the sacred precincts of her palatial home. A 
(juiet turn of the wheel of fortune — and it will turn quick- 
ly now and then — gave him an unexpected relationship. 



SOUTHERN HERO TALES 95 

One day a company of men and women — the social set 
to which he was admitted because of his college worth 
rather than his own desire for such — were discussing the 
politics of the day. The issue was whether or not the 
people of the commonwealth would permit their present 
Congressman to continue in office with all the charges 
of graft clinging to him. All admitted his defeat de- 
sirable, but none dared to ''bell the cat." He had been 
in power for years; the ''ring" organization and office 
holders were behind him. As if sending a challenge to 
a knight of the olden time, the fair-eyed damsel turned 
to the young man fresh from the dewy mountains and 
said: "You can beat him." Like the valorous knight 
of old, he picked up the gauntlet where she had thrown 
it down, for he thought he saw more than a mere chal- 
lenge to win a seat in Congress; and he did. 

It was a long, hard-fought battle, with the odds against 
him. But he drew from his fine reserve of brain and 
health, plus a college training, to all of which was added 
the luster in the eye and the roses in the cheek of the 
fair young girl who had thrown down the gauntlet. And 
he won. It was more than a place in the councils of a 
great nation that was his prize on that victorious day. 
Keeping tune to the plaudits of friends and admirers 



96 SOUTHERN HERO TALES 

on the liappy day when he took his seat under the big- 
white dome at Washington was the merry chime of wed- 
ding bells, which brought to him forever the bright-eyed 
girl whose very charm was in seeing that he could win 
and whose greatest value was in helping him to find him- 
self in a large way. Now, often, surrounded by admir- 
ing friends, he tells this story, which he never names, but 
which his charming wife calls '' Walking to Congress." 
Thus, sitting in the circle of the nation's most renowned 
statesmen is the man who, as a boy, dared to venture, 
and by so doing won what he who never tries and never 
braves the danger cannot hope to win. 



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